


It Was a Comet

by RogueMarks



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Anal Sex, First Time, Freeform, Kissing, M/M, Oral Sex, POV Second Person, Romance, Sappy, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-07-12 02:35:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7081264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RogueMarks/pseuds/RogueMarks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“It was a comet. The boy saw the comet and he felt as though his life had meaning."<br/>Second-person perspective self-indulgent freeform in Hermann's eyes inspired by the above quote attributed to Lucas Scott. Or, super sappy sex. Really sappy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Was a Comet

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on a Newmann fic for months now and have yet to post it until it's complete. In the meantime I just really needed to write some straight-up romantic smut to get it out of my system! Enjoy!

_It was a comet. The boy saw the comet and he felt as though his life had meaning._

 

It was two weeks after the first attack. A letter came into your possession, addressed to your father. Curiosity got the better of you, intrigued by the MIT letterhead, and you opened it. You smiled at the words, impressed by his acumen and, in the second letter, his persistence. You wrote him back. For two years you wrote, and waited on bated breath every day until the postman came. You finished your doctorate. You suggested he join the Jaeger Academy, with you, but he had to wait. For two years, you waited.

 

_And when it went away, he waited his entire life for it to come back to him._

 

You meet, and he is nothing like you imagined. You ignore him. You try to ignore his dyed hair, his tattoos, his scratchy voice as he talked, his green eyes that shied away when you caught them from across the room. You are nothing like your letters. You convince yourself he is not.

 

_It was more than just a comet because of what it brought to his life: direction, beauty, meaning._

 

He matched your passion—you pushed each other. You have never worked with someone so intense in your life and it drove you mad. You bit and he bit back—two alpha dogs in the same cage. You shouldn't have worked so well together, but you did, and you denied how amazing he was. The way he danced around the lab, the long nights, the way he talked to himself when he didn't know you were there. He made you work harder, he made you want to be a better person, but you got lost along the way.

 

_There are many who couldn't understand, and sometimes he walked among them._

 

He was reckless. His methods empirical. He insisted there was no other way to know. You said it was impossible, but you knew, he knew, and he did it anyway. You choked down bile when you found him. You choked down your nastiest words because you didn't want him to go, so you followed.

 

_But even in his darkest hours, he knew in his heart that someday it would return to him, and his world would be whole again..._

 

In the Drift you saw his life, the years of emotion you neglected to acknowledge. You saw his struggle, you saw his triumph. You hid behind your intellect, under drab clothing and uninviting temperament. He hid his intellect, under leather and loud music. You wanted to deny his genius, that he was a lesser being for not being its textbook definition—but that's what made him human. This amazing, wild, impossibility of a man you never hated. You reconciled your feelings, not with words but an all-encompassing rush of connection the moment you locked eyes after you both saved the world. He reciprocated. You saw it. You felt it.

You needed his lips to taste yours in the privacy of the hall, his calloused hands finding its way underneath the untucked tail of your shirt. Needed the way he gasped through his nose as you kissed back with as much fervor the man radiated in the decade you'd known him. This was the man you wanted to know all these years, and you always knew.

 

_And his belief in God and love and art would be re-awakened in his heart._

 

His muscles ripple under hours of ink, back arched above you as he mouths your neck. You wrap your arms around him, kneading at his shoulders as his tongue tastes your skin. You whine and moan as he travels further down, excruciatingly slow to worship every inch of you. You furiously blush as your cock is freed, dragging against his colorful chest as he lifts himself up to take your already swollen lips. You bask under his skin as he ruts against you in a sensual dance, small sounds escaping to echo off the concrete walls of your room. He whispers into your mouth how beautiful you are. How smart, how strong, and how utterly gorgeous he always found you. You nearly cry, taking his face between your hands and mirror every word.

You arc into his lips as they travel back down, faster, fiercer, until they pause above you. You shudder as his hot breath folds over you, his fingers ghosting over your thighs, your hips, and almost scream when you feel his mouth envelop you. His hair flows like silk between your fingers and you don't know how long you can last because this is too much. For a moment you feel angry, that you could have had this so much sooner, but the thought is banished from your mind because this is far more than you could ever dream of. The way his tongue moves, the way he nurses you. You breathe his name. He feels so good. Saying his name feels so good and you almost can't when you come, crying out, pulling at his hair, but he doesn't seem to mind as he hums pleasantly around you.

Your hand caresses his cheek and he kisses your palm, your wrist, your arm, and your stomach flutters at the sight, at the reality you find yourself in. You feel like you're dreaming when he whispers into your ear and you nod, shivering at the desire in his tone. He slicks his fingers and you close your eyes. You have never done this, but he will never hurt you. You feel as his hand travels between your legs and he kisses your chest. You lift yourself when you feel him trace your entrance, his other hand at the small of your back. Your breath catches when a single finger breaches you, but it doesn't hurt. It doesn't feel strange at all because it's him. He asks if you're okay, and you beg him to continue.

He moves, stroking you inside and out and you never knew such a feeling. It only intensifies as one becomes two, and two becomes three. You begin to ride his hand in desperation, and whine when you feel empty. Opening your eyes you see him kneeling before you, colored and wild and you can't help but stare. He stares back and a heat radiates from the center of your chest when he smiles. He looms over you, peppering your collarbone with kisses that burn like fire. You tell him you're ready. You have never been more ready in your entire life.

You gasp into his mouth as he enters you and unable to kiss him back he gently sucks on your lower lip. Pushing further you hear him rasp deep in his throat as he rakes his teeth along your jaw. The sounds he makes as he begins to move rival your own. He starts slow, and cradles the nape of your neck as he languidly rolls his hips. Your hands shakily leave the metal rail behind you to splay across his back, mapping the strength in his tensed shoulders and you can't help but whimper in awe. He changes his rhythm, pausing for a moment before diving back in and your nails dig into his skin, your mouth open to a silent cry.

He sings to you. Sings your name and he is so beautiful it makes your toes curl. You pull him closer still and you make noises you never knew you were capable of. Noises so loud you bury your face in his hair and when he wraps a hand around you you buck and bare your neck. You scratch lines down his skin and you want to apologize but he gasps and snaps his hips harder, faster. You cannot think. Nothing exists outside these walls, this bed, this moment. If numbers are the handwriting of God then he is the heavens, your reward for a lifetime of devotion and you feel so, so blessed.

He hits that spot within you and you wail and he doesn't stop. You are a mess of sensation and he is fire raging above you, each lick of his flame welling deep inside the core of your being. Building, building, and you writhe in want underneath him and you are the kindling that lets him burn, that kept him burning all these years. You burst.

Your body jerks and you scream his name, feeling your warmth blossom across your stomach as you pulse around him. You open your eyes just as he comes and your name escapes his parted lips like a prayer. You call him darling and he calls you sweetheart, _Liebling_ , _Schatz_ and it rolls of his tongue so naturally it hurts. He is flushed and beautifully spent as he leans down to kiss you. You brush the hair out of his face and he bites back a laugh at the gasp you make as he pulls out but you smile, and you kiss him, and you never want to let him go. Twelve years ago he entered your landscape. You lost him somewhere along the way, but now, he will never leave your sight.

 

_The boy saw the comet and suddenly his life had meaning._

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> The quote this piece is inspired by is apparently used for a lot of ships. I had no idea. Congratulations Lucas Scott, wherever you are!  
> I got on the Newt/Hermann bandwagon kind of late, and I worry that the fandom has died down a little bit... I hope not. I'll keep it alive. I have a 20+ chapter fic to finish still!  
> This is my first contribution to the Newmann train. Please comment, critique, let me know what you think!


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